


Body Heat

by Sophia_Bee



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff, M/M, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 04:22:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3195167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophia_Bee/pseuds/Sophia_Bee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik sleeps naked. Charles wears pajamas. </p><p>Takes place during the training period of XMFC.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Body Heat

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to anyone who loves to sleep naked. A short one-shot bit of canon-fluff.
> 
> Not beta'd, there will be mistakes.

Erik sleeps naked.

It takes Charles a little while to realize this. Mainly because they’re having a lot of sex. Glorious, amazing sex, and afterwards they both crash into sleep, sprawled across each other, skin against skin, entirely naked. Maybe once or twice Charles has had the fleeting thought that maybe he should actually get up and put his pajamas on in some sort of proper manner, but every time he tried to move or roll away, Erik would mumble something in his sleep and his arms would pull him closer, and Charles would just give up. After all, one probably should sleep naked with their lover after being entirely pounded into the mattress

This is why Charles just never notices that Erik eschews sleeping attire.

Charles doesn’t. He has a whole drawer dedicated to sleepwear, soft and inviting, smelling like the laundry soap the housekeeper uses for her wash. It’s not a flashy collection. There is no silk or satin. It’s a collection of worn 100% cotton flannel and percale, added to on a regular basis by Raven at Christmas time. Some of his pajamas are almost threadbare while other are luxurious and expensive thick cotton that feels crisp and cool against his skin. Some he’s worn for years. Others he pulls out only occasionally. Some have stains, most likely tea that he drank almost constantly at Oxford while working on his doctorate, wearing his pajamas day-in and day-out until Raven teased him mercilessly.

Charles likes his pajamas. He likes how they are loose and comfortable, the softness of the fabric against his skin. He likes that they keep him warm on the cold winter nights when the wind blows through the thin glass windows of his bedroom making Charles shiver. Until Erik came along, he would often just throw on a ratty old blue cardigan and spend all morning sitting in them, sipping Earl Grey and reading the paper or the latest scientific journal that came in the mail. Since Erik, there’s no reason not to get dressed before going to breakfast, and it seems silly to put on pajamas, so Charles picks out trousers and button-ups and gets dressed for the day, not matter how much he secretly longs to lounge around in his pajamas for most of the morning. Plus he enjoys the way Erik give his ass an appreciative glance as he pulls on his standard khaki trousers.

Then it happens. It’s just a random night, and completely unexpected. They don’t have sex.

The night they Don’t Have Sex is also is the night that Charles realizes that Erik has moved in and isn’t just popping into his bedroom for an occasional fuck. It’s been a long day and they are both tired, and Charles had expended a great deal of energy chastising Erik for pushing Sean off the satellite dish. Erik had managed to mostly hide his amusement through the lecture, that included the fact that they hold the responsibility for the safety of all the students in their hands, and what if they earn a reputation for unorthodox methods and for godsake Erik, stop looking at me that way. Erik blinked innocently and asked which way specifically was he looking at Charles that he finds particularly bothersome. Charles had no answer, but Erik did achieve his goal of stopping the lecture at that point.

Their routine up until now has included rushing to Charles bedroom for a game of ‘chess’ after dinner, which is actually a contest to see how fast Erik can slam Charles up against the wall of his bedroom and ravish his mouth entirely once they are behind closed door. They’ve gotten pretty good at ‘chess’ at this point, and once Erik had muttered ‘check mate’ before fucking Charles’ mouth with his tongue. Tonight there is no ‘chess’ and no rush. They just walk together down the hallway and Erik purposely bumps himself into Charles now and then, Charles smiles in a way that can only be described as shy and glances at the other man, and it’s strangely domestic. They pass by Erik’s bedroom and Erik doesn’t slow down, or stop and wish Charles a good sleep. He doesn’t pause at all or even glance towards his bedroom door then back at Charles, his eyes asking for permission. No, he just keeps walking, as if the fact that he has a designated bedroom is of no consequence, because he sleeps with Charles. Charles realizes at this point that they are heading towards THEIR bedroom. He swallows and tries not to look over at Erik, afraid he’ll see the excitement about this situation in his eyes, that he’ll see how much more Charles wants.

When they are finally behind closed doors, Erik turns to Charles and pulls him into his arms, sighing into his hair and telling him that he’s been waiting all day to do this. No ravaging or mouth-fucking, just holding. Charles closes his eyes and rests his cheek against Erik’s chest, hiding how much he likes this, and as much as he’d love for Erik to throw him on the bed and have his way with him, this is almost just as nice.

They get ready for bed, standing together in Charles’ somewhat large bathroom with it’s marble counters and plated faucets. Charles watches as Erik closes his eyes while he brushes his teeth, his eyelashes dark against his cheek, and Charles takes a long moment to examine Erik’s face before he nudges him a little and they exchange smiles then finish with the task at hand. They wash their faces and Charles laughs when Erik asks if he has any lotion then tells him that skin care is actually very important in a somewhat put-upon manner.

Charles walks back into his (THEIR) bedroom, his shoes already off, the carpet soft under his sock feet, and he pulls open his dresser drawer, gazing over the many choices of pajamas neatly folded and color coordinated. He runs his finger along them, trying to decide which pair would be perfect for this moment, and settles on one of his favorites. They are blue striped flannel, and he’s had them long enough that they are supremely soft and almost threadbare in some areas. Charles strips off his clothes efficiently, throwing them into the hamper for the housekeeper to pick up in the morning. He pulls on the pajamas he’s picked out, runs a hand through his hair, then turns to head towards the bed. This is when he sees Erik.

Erik has also stripped off all his clothes and is now standing with them in his hands looking a little bit confused.

“Hamper,” Charles says, motioning his head towards the wicker basket in the corner where he’d thrown his clothes just moments ago, not thinking about the implications of their clothes intermingling in Charles’ hamper and what the housekeeper might think. Erik nods and walks over to the hamper, putting his clothes into it, and for some reason this give Charles a strange sense of satisfaction.

They walk together towards the bed, and as Charles stops short at his side of the bed it occurs to him that Erik is naked. He’s standing on the opposite side of the bed, entirely naked, his cock hanging loose between his legs, nesting in his dark pubic hair, chest bare and he’s looking at Charles in a quizzical manner.

“You’re wearing clothes,” Erik says, frowning a bit. Charles echoes that frown with his own.

“Pajamas.” Charles corrects, “don’t you wear them too?”

Erik huffs out a small laugh then offers Charles one of his quick, wide smiles that lingers somewhere between amused and sinister.

“Um, no. Why would I?”

Charles is a bit taken aback at this question, and he hasn’t realized that Erik’s state of sleeping naked has not been some byproduct of his post-coital state until this moment. Erik sleeps naked, fucking or no fucking. When they get into bed, Erik is going to pull Charles into his arms, sliding against his soft flannel pajamas and Charles is going to be met with a possibly irresistible expanse of bare skin.

Oh dear.

“It’s, um, proper?” Charles stammers. “Shouldn’t one wear pajamas?”

“It’s an affront to the beauty of the naked body,” Erik answers, his mouth quirking a bit on one side. It’s as if watching the man who has been agreeable to all forms of sexual experimentation Erik has suggested so far getting flustered over nudity is somehow amusing. Charles has nothing to say to this.

“Plus,” Erik continues, “I get hot when I sleep.”

“Uh, okay.” Charles says, and when it comes down to it, he’s not going to make either of their sleeping habits an issue. “Naked it is.”

“You might want to try it.” Erik says in an amused tone, pulling back the duvet of the large, comfortable bed and starting to climb in. Charles is about to say something about not wanting his bare ass on his sheets, but considering how many times Erik has had his bare ass against these very sheets, it’s a bit of a moot point. He just settles on offering a wan smile and crawls into bed, stretching himself against Erik and all his nakedness, trying to ignore how good Erik feels, and reminding himself that he really is tired and they have a long day ahead them. He should sleep.

Charles closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep. He’s unsuccessful, but Erik is not. His breathing slows and he starts to snore very softly.

Erik had not been exaggerating when he said he gets hot when he sleeps. Maybe up until now Charles hasn’t noticed it because they’ve been naked together, or maybe he just sleeps incredibly deeply after sex, but then man is a furnace. Not only is he a furnace, it appears he is also a cuddler, and any time that Charles flips himself over, trying to seek a cooler area of the bed, Erik follows him, chasing him in his sleep, pressing himself against Charles, his heat radiating through the flannel of Charles pajamas.

The fact that Erik appears to be entirely dedicated to him in his sleep is somewhat charming, except that Charles is tossing and turning, and sweating and he’s waking up just about every hour because he’s too goddamn hot. And Erik is relentless, arms and legs tangling around him, a complete opposite of the carefully controlled mannerisms he exhibits during the day, barely touching Charles, and it’s as if his subconscious cannot help but leak through in his sleep. If Charles doesn’t absolutely dread how exhausted he’ll be in the morning he’d find the whole thing adorable, an adjective that he’s sure would cause Erik great consternation, which in turn causes Charles great delight. This entirely annoys him because he’s delighted and AWAKE.

At some point in the night, or maybe it’s one of those morning hours that gets easily confused with the night before because it’s still pitch black, Charles finally manages to escape the furnace softly snoring besides him with his hand slung across his hip. It’s no small feat and requires at least three tries before he finds himself standing in the middle of his dark room huffing with irritation. Charles strips off his pajamas, and the cool air hitting his skin feels so good, then he crawls back into bed, and notices with some relief that Erik is turned away from him and sleeping soundly on his side. Charles wriggles back under the covers and settles in, sighing with contentment because he’s finally comfortable and the perfect temperature. This is a brief respite because only minutes later Erik thrashes about a bit, throws the covers off him and onto Charles, so Charles is now trapped under two layers of the duvet, then, as if to add insult to injury, cuddles up to Charles for about the hundredth time that night.

It’s only when the room temperature dips significantly that Charles can finally drift off to sleep, and he’s blissfully dreaming when he’s awoken by the sleepy, warm press of lips on his neck. Charles stirs a bit at the touch then they drift down to his collarbone and he hears a sleep-hoarse murmur from his roving bedmate.

“I see you decided to join me in being naked.” Erik rumbles and he draws his foot along Charles calf. “It’s nice.”

No matter how much he wants to frown and chastise Erik for his overnight shenanigans, he can’t help the sparks of desire that shoot through him, and he arches back a little at Erik’s touch.

“I love you, Erik Lehnsherr,” Charles says firmly, “but you are a TERRIBLE bedmate.”

Erik stares at Charles, wordless, eyes wide, and Charles feels lost for a moment, because he’s just told Erik that he is terrible to share a bed with and the other man is looking at him like he’s just given him the stars and the moon.

“You love me?” Erik finally manages to gasp. Oh. OH! Charles furrows his brow, because he does love Erik. He’s loved Erik since the moment he dragged him out of the water, but he hadn’t really meant to confess it at this moment.

“I do.” Charles answers honestly. Erik laughs and pulls him to him, and Charles thrills as always at the way their naked bodies fit together. Erik is laughing and kissing Charles all over, and there are tears in his eyes, and the moment is nothing short of glorious.

“I’m going to get some water,” Erik says, kissing Charles on the forehead, “I’ll be right back. Stay here, my love.”

Charles nods and watches at Erik stands from the bed and walks towards the bathroom, admiring his long, lean body, the muscles on his back, his ass. Oh his ass. He guesses it's just going to be this way. If he's going to have to sleep next to The Furnace that is Erik Lehnsherr he's just going to have to forgo pajamas. After all, love calls for sacrifices. Charles sinks back into the pillows as he waits for Erik to return, and it feels so good to just close his eyes for a minute. Just one minute. Just...

...one...

...yawn...

...more minute...

...

Erik walks back into the room but Charles doesn't notice. He's sprawled on the bed, entirely naked, the covers pushed down to the foot of the bed and fast asleep. He doesn't see the way Erik looks at him with an indescribable softness in his eyes, doesn't see the small smile on Erik's lips. He barely stirs when Erik pulls the duvet up, and with a small sigh of contentment, Charles burrows into the covers and finally sleeps.

~fin~


End file.
